Blood for wild blood
by Dustland-Fairytales
Summary: AU. Shisui's life as a private detective is maddeningly boring until Uchiha Itachi commissions him with a task that sends him headfirst into hell and back again. Ita/Shi, sides of Madara/Shisui. WIP.  Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Blood for wild blood

**Author: **Dustland-Fairytales

**Summary:** Shisui's life as a private detective is maddeningly boring until Uchiha Itachi commissiones him with a task that sends him headfirst into hell and back again. And before Shisui can even realize it, his life has been turned upside down and he will never be the same again. Ita/Shi. WIP.

**A/N.:** This story has been bugging me for a while now, and although I actually resolved to never uploading a story again before finishing it, I've decided to not make a veryveryveryvery long One-Shot but instead a multi-chapter story. I'm not promising regular updates because university is being a pain in the ass, but maybe my guilty conscience will help my write faster to not leave you hanging. Also, please note that this story is M-rated for language and probable kinky scenes that should follow in later chapters, if I don't get cold feet and back out of it. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, not to me. I don't earn a single penny with this (what a shame)

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><p><strong>Blood for wild blood<strong>

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><p>„Hey, wait up. I'm not <em>that<em> fast. Wait a second! _Wait_, Goddammit!"

Seriously, no animal as tiny as that rabbit should be able to run that fast. How was that even possible? Shisui's legs were at least ten times longer and yet he still couldn't keep up. This was not fair. The rabbit looked cute and fluffy and Shisui just wanted to cuddle it. After all, it must have been his rabbit, considering that it jumped out of _his_ suitcase earlier. Plus, it had stolen his wine gums and Shisui sure as hell wouldn't let anyone get away with that, regardless of how cute the thief was.

"Wait, _please_!"

That, oh wonder, seemed to work. The black rabbit stopped to look at him, eyes wide and ears twitching, and then suddenly the small body convulsed violently and an ear-deafening noise shook it to the core.

_Ring- Ring._

Shisui frowned. Now that was a strange sound to come out of a rabbit. Something must be terribly wrong with it. Maybe it had swallowed something – and alarm clock, maybe, like the crocodile in "Peter Pan"?

_Ring – Ring. Ring- Ring._

The noise only got louder and more irritating by the second. Stupid, shrill sound disturbing his peace. He had wanted to have a nice chat with the rabbit and tell him not to take other people's belongings anymore. That would have been a successful day. But of course that was before the stupid animal began to sound like a telephone.

Wait – telephone?

_Ring – Ring._

With some effort, Shisui forced one of his eyes open and groaned. Sure enough, he was lying halfway sprawled over his desk with papers and documents scattered all around his messy office and right next to his ear, the phone was ringing. Cursing, he sat up after peeling his face from the wooden surface it was somewhat stuck to and reached blindly for the phone, almost knocking it off the table in the process.

"Private detective agency, Fukaigawa Shisui," he drawled, stifling a yawn and rubbing the side of his face to get the red mark of his table's contours away. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning, Sir." A female voice, almost as shrill and high-pitched as the ringing of his bloody phone, reached his ear and Shisui resisted the urge to just hang up again. Probably just another spoilt, rich girl who had lost her cute little cat and wanted him to search for her. Way to ruin his day. He only wanted to get rid of his hangover, which was suddenly very prominent again. Shisui had the terrible feeling that he was getting old. A while ago, he'd been able to party for days (or rather nights) in a row without being all too much affected by the lack of sleep and overabundance of alcohol and loud music, but now not even three aspirins and a liter of water in the morning could save him from the throbbing headache. "Am I talking to Mr. Fukaigawa?"

_No, you are talking to Santa Claus._ Shisui forced himself to be patient. "Yes."

"I am calling you on behalf of Mister Uchiha Itachi, co-owner of Uchiha Corporation. He requests your attendance in his office. Would 15 o'clock be alright for you?"

Shisui blinked in surprise and threw a glance at the clock on his wall. It was two-thirty. Damn. He had slept for five hours and _still _felt like shit? Life was so unfair.

"…Sir?"

Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten Miss Annoying Cheeping Voice was still on the line. "And why exactly would Mister…Uh…um" _What was his name again?_ "um, he request my attendance?"

"Well, I was not told the matter which he wanted to discuss with you, but since you are a private detective I reckon he wants to hire you," the woman replied coolly. Was she pissed because he was acting like an idiot or because her boss hadn't deemed her worthy enough to tell her all the juicy gossip?

"Ah." Shisui said non-commitically. "Well then, you can tell your boss that I don't do house visits. If he wants something of me, he should come to see me at _my_ office."

The woman gasped in shock. "But _Sir_, we are talking about _Uchiha Itachi,_ one of the richest and most occupied men in the country and-"

"He could be the President of the United States for all I care," Shisui interrupted her lackadaisically. "I don't do special treatments either. He can damn well get his mighty ass down here just like everyone else."

There was another harsh intake of breath and then some shuffling and then all Shisui could hear was somewhat muffled, probably because she held her hand over the speaker. "I am so sorry, Mister Uchiha, that you had to hear such a rude remark." Oh, so she'd had the loudspeaker turned on. Maybe this would get him into trouble, but right now, Shisui couldn't care less. "Maybe I should call someone else..."

Someone else was talking then, but Shisui couldn't make out what the other person was saying at all. A second later, the woman was speaking to him again. "I'll put you through," she hissed viciously, as if to remind him not to do or say anything stupid or disrespectful, and before Shisui had the time to process her words, there was a quiet toot and the sound of someone picking up the phone.

"Good morning, Mister Fukaigawa."

Shisui gulped. Damn. He didn't have the nerve to deal with some self-righteous prick who would most likely sue him for any rude word that escaped his lips right now.

"I understand you declined my request to come to my office." Well, at least Shisui didn't get a tinnitus from listening to this guy's voice – that was a nice change for once.

"Indeed I did, Sir. I am very busy at the moment. If you there is anything you want, please come to my bureau during office hours. " To be honest, Shisui wasn't busy at all, but the guy didn't need to know that. Shisui didn't make house visits. Period. Okay, so he might have, had he been in a good mood. And if he had needed the money urgently. Which he kind of did, but still. This was about getting a point across.

"This is very inconvenient."

This entire bullshit was inconvenient. Shisui shrugged before remembering his conversational partner couldn't see that through the phone. "You are the one who wants something, so you should be the one to come to me. That's how I work. If you're not okay with it, that's not my problem."

There was a short pause. "You do realize that I could simply hire another private detective who is more cooperative, don't you?"

"Sure." Shisui stifled another yawn. "Go ahead. But let's face it, there's a reason you called me, and there's a reason you are still trying to persuade me to come to you – which is not happening, by the way, just to say it again. However, since you picked me out of at least a hundred private detectives in Tokyo, I am pretty sure you know that what you need is something only I can do; and therefore you will come to me, just like every single one of my clients would."

The silence that followed his words was so long that Shisui already thought the man would have ended the call, but just when he was about to put the receiver down he spoke again. "Would six-thirty be convenient for you?" the man asked smoothly. "I am afraid that I will not be able to make it earlier due to a conference."

Shisui blinked, taken aback. He was actually agreeing to this? "Um...yes. Yes. I think six-thirty would be fine."

"Good. I will see you then."

There was a quiet _click_ and then nothing but silence. Shisui stared at the phone in disbelief. Was this really happening? Not that he was complaining. Sort of. The good thing was that this job, if he accepted it, would most likely fill his account for the first time in ages, or at least get him over the rest of the month. The bad thing was that he'd have to actually _work._ And to get rid of his headache _now_, because he couldn't go to bed early like he'd planned to if this guy was coming over at six-thirty. Taking in the mess that was his office, Shisui realized he might want to clean up a little. And take a shower. And another aspirin. Or two. And coffee. Coffee sounded good.

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><p>Nearly four hours, two aspirins, one long, hot shower and six cups of coffee later, Shisui patted the dust out of his jeans and looked around his bureau with a look of satisfaction on his face. It looked way better now that he had cleaned it up (read: gather the scattered papers and shove them into the nearest drawer). Bigger, too.<p>

Not that "bureau" was actually a fitting term to describe his work place. In truth it had used to be his small living room that he had just converted into an office when he had decided to go into business for himself. Not that that was working out very well for him. He hardly earned the money to cover the expenses and pay for the rent of his tiny flat, much less to afford some of the urgently required purchases on his list. At least he still had the money to fill the fridge, and as long as that was the case, Shisui wasn't going to complain. Furthermore, he didn't have to kiss the asses of some arrogant, slimy old men anymore, which was a huge plus.

Shisui glanced at the clock on the wall. Six twenty-five. He sighed and took another sip of his coffee. If there was one thing he hated then it was waiting. He had never been a patient man so this prick better be on ti-

There was a sharp knock on the door and before he could answer it was opened to reveal a young man standing on the threshold.

Shisui promptly choked on his coffee.

So _that_ was Uchiha Itachi. Shisui had to admit that he was nothing like he had expected him to be. Co-owners of big companies were, as far as his experience went, usually old, gray-haired slash half-bold men with swim rings of fat on their bellies which were forced into too-tightly fit suits. Itachi was none of that (except that he was wearing a tuxedo, but that one fit him perfectly so that didn't really count). He was young, probably even younger than Shisui, tall and slender, with long black hair that was tied back into a pony tail and a pale, delicate face that might have made him look girly if not for the two lines under his eyes. And pretty damn hot.

Right now, though, he was casting him a vaguely concerned look, as if to determine whether or not there existed an imminent danger of Shisui suffocating and whether he should do something about it or just wait and see what happened.

"Mister Fukaigawa?" It wasn't so much a question to verify his identity but rather a polite inquiry about his well-being, so Shisui figured he didn't really need to answer it.

Still coughing, Shisui gestured towards one of the chairs. "Have a seat," he managed to croak out. Itachi merely threw him another glance, eyebrows raised, but proceeded to sit down while Shisui walked around the table to sit down on the other side of the desk, desperately trying to get his coughing under control. As well as his hormones, which currently seemed to dance a lambada in his cells. Yeah, great, that was exactly what he needed right now.

"So, Mister Uchiha," he said slowly once he had regained his breath, "what can I do for you?"

Itachi's eyes moved from taking in the surrounding to focusing on his face. "I have to admit I was expecting something slightly more...impressive."

Shisui shrugged. "Size doesn't matter."

"Maybe it isn't only the size I am talking about," Itachi replied, looking him over sceptically. "I want to be honest with you: I am starting to question why I am here."

"You are here," Shisui answered, settling back on his chair, "because I am the best private detective in Tokyo."

"And not at all conceited."

"It's not being conceited if it's the truth," Shisui countered, unfazed. "And you know it is. You wouldn't be here if someone hadn't recommended me."

A small smile tugged on the corner of Itachi's lips. "Indeed. But I also did some research on my own. I like to do things thoroughly."

"Ah, pray tell, then. I'd love to hear all the juicy gossip they tell about me out there. It's been a while since I've been updated on the latest rumours."

"I am not taking rumours into my consideration," Itachi remarked. "I did, however, make sure I was well informed about your previous employments and achievements. And I have to admit, the file reads like a golden book of success. Graduating high-school with the best results, then police academy, also graduating being top of the class, one of the most effective and most praised agents throughout Tokyo with the highest detection rate in years – and then, all of a sudden, you dropped out a year ago. It makes me wonder why. For _this_?" he asked, gesturing around the room.

Shisui smiled bitterly. "I see you've done your homework well. Ninety-nine out of a hundred points, I'd say. There is just one tiny detail you got wrong. I didn't drop out _all of a sudden._"

"So you were fired?"

"No." Shisui shook his head. "No, I wasn't. I made the decision to quit the job myself. Of course, running your own business isn't always exactly a piece of cake, but I'd choose it over going back to the police force a hundred times. My bosses are – _were_ hypocritical, corrupt assholes, who made deals with the criminals we were supposed to be chasing and nicking and filled their pockets while sending the fresh meat out there in the line of fire without hesitating, knowing very well that most of them would be eaten alive. And that's not what I signed up for. So I quit." He frowned. "Bootlicking was never my speciality anyway."

Itachi raised his eyebrows. "You didn't strike me as the idealistic type."

"That's because I'm not. I might have used to be, but those times are long gone. I work with what I can get. I'm on a first-name basis with most of the smaller and also with some bigger fishes out there, too, which is why I am always up-to-date when it comes to what is happening in this city."

"That is a double-standard; complaining about your superiors cooperating with criminals and then doing so yourself."

Shisui shrugged. "I don't think so. Most of these acquaintances go way back to when I worked undercover. At least I am not pretending to hunt them down anymore, and neither am I stabbing them in the back. And I never would, because some of those small criminals are better people than the ones pretending to be the good guys. Anyway, it's not like I'm doing anything illegal. It's mostly about nice long chats and favours. If that bothers you, well, tough luck, because that's how I work. " He tilted his head. "But somehow I don't think you'll mind too much, considering that you came to me instead of turning to the police force for whatever you need help with. Which brings us back to our original topic: What do you want?"

Itachi leaned forwards. "What do you know about Uchiha Madara?"

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><p>It turned out that Shisui, despite being generally well informed about what was going on in the city at any given point, did not know much about Uchiha Madara. Not nearly enough to fathom what Itachi could possibly want him to do, that was for sure. He only knew what was public knowledge: successful businessman, smart, wealthy and powerful family, good plastic surgeon that he totally should have recommended to Michael Jackson when that guy was still alive.<p>

Aside from that, Shisui had never taken much interest in him. He'd never heard any rumours about him being affiliated with any of the bad guys, so there had never been any reason to take a closer look.

Itachi, it seemed, thought differently about that one.

"Okay, so just to make it absolutely sure that I am understanding you correctly: you want me to keep tabs on your relative Uchiha Madara."

"Correct."

"Who is not only your relative but also owns another company and has a considerable influence on the city's politicians, and, as I might add, has a perfectly clean state."

"Correct."

"And you want me to prove that he is mired in some dirty business."

"Correct."

"Okay." Shisui said slowly, tilting his head. "Why?"

Itachi frowned. "I don't think my private motives should concern you at all. All I want you to do is to do your job."

"On the contrary. I think your motives are very important to me. I want to know what to expect from this man. And I need to know what it is to you and what you are willing to risk to find out the truth – provided that he is indeed a villain, of course," Shisui explained matter-of-factly. "I won't take the job unless I know you're being honest with me."

"You need the job," Itachi stated calmly. "There's no denying that. It will pay you well and it will be more exciting than chasing down run away cats or keep wives under surveillance to prove their infidelity, which is, as far as I am aware, exactly what you are doing at the moment. You might be the best private detective in Tokyo, but it doesn't help you at all. All I want is for you to not ask unnecessary questions."

In this very moment, Shisui hated Itachi, just because he was right. He was the best private detective in Tokyo, and he was thoroughly and utterly _bored_, not to mention that he was almost constantly broke. He hated the ridiculously easy jobs he occasionally had, finding run away cats or rebellious teens and being hired by overprotective and jealous husbands to keep tabs on their wives. He hated his life, which felt so fucking meaningless to him. When he had joined the police force, he had believed he could – and would – change the world, make it a better place, blah blah blah and when reality crashed down on him he had thrown it all away. Sometimes, when his usual relaxed and cheerful mask disintegrated, he felt like life had already made him bitter, which was ridiculous because he was only twenty-five, and then he hated himself for being a whiny idiot and the only things that helped then were a lot of alcohol and a quick fuck in some dark corners.

Yes, he needed the job. But if Fukaigawa Shisui was one thing, it was _stubborn_, and now he was also pissed because Itachi already seemed to read him well enough rub salt into his wounds and he would not give in.

"It is also way more likely to get me into trouble or even get me killed if what you say is true," Shisui retorted coldly. "So no, I'm not going to _not_ ask questions. If you don't want that then congratulations, you have just wasted forty-five minutes of my precious time as well as yours. But let's face it; the thing is that there is no one else who can do the job. That is why you are here. And that is why you're not going to leave and find yourself another private detective, because that would just be a waste of even more time and money."

Itachi's contemplating stare was becoming vaguely unnerving. "Can I trust you to keep this to yourself?"

"I'm as silent as a grave," Shisui promised. _Ha. Gotcha._

The businessman sighed and rubbed his temples. "It is complicated," he murmured. "Madara has always played a major part in the Uchiha Corporation and has, in fact, co-founded it. However, some years ago there was a big quarrel between him and the rest of my family, and he eventually left the business. Ever since, despite pretending to support us, he has been constantly working against us. There have been various occasions that indicated his success is not due to his skills and experience but instead has been achieved thanks to various deals with criminals. Unfortunately, we were never able to find any proof of that, but until now, it has never been necessary."

"And why has it suddenly become necessary now?" Shisui asked curiously.

"Evidence suggests that Madara is trying to either take over our company or destroy it altogether. I will not allow that to happen. And...maybe there's even something more."

Shisui's head perked up. "Like what?"

Itachi shook his head. "I don't know. Rumour has it that he is planning something bigger, but until now I have not been able to find out what this could be. Maybe it is nothing. People enjoy gossiping. But..." He trailed off.

"But you think there's more to it," Shisui finished his sentence.

Itachi's gaze was calm and steady. "I know my uncle," he said cryptically, as if that explained everything.

Shisui nodded, and then shrugged. "I hope you realize that this will not come cheap."

"Money is no object," Itachi cut in and fished for something in his pocket. A second later, he handed Shisui his business card. "Here is my card. This number is for a direct call into my office so that sidestep my secretary. My cell phone number is also listed – you can call me anytime if you have important news."

When Shisui took the card out of his hands, his fingers accidentally brushed against Itachi's. They were cool and soft and left his skin tingling, and Shisui had to resist the urge to snatch his hand back before he was tempted to do anything stupid. "It's a deal."

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><p><strong>AN.:** Reviews are lovely and criticism is always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N.:** _So it's bitter_nakano's birthday today - 1 year of shipping the wonder that is the relationship of Itachi and Shisui. To celebrate this awesome community's birthday and spread my endless love for this fandom, I finally finished the second chapter of this. Enjoy!_

**_Disclaimer:_ Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.**

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><p>Shisui started his work on the job with the easiest, most natural and most logical task: he went to sleep. When he woke the next day, already well after midday, his headache had finally disappeared and thus enabled him to think straight again, which wasn't exactly the best thing, he mused, as he realized just precisely what kind of task he had signed up to the previous day. He groaned. Trust his stupid, sleep-deprived and hormone-driven self to accept a job that would surely get him into a hell of trouble. Why had he agreed to this again, aside from the fact that he hadn't been fully awake and therefore not thinking clearly and Itachi's good looks that messed with his brain – and other body parts – more than the lack of sleep and almost had him drooling all over his desk? Oh right. There was no reason.<p>

Lovely. His state of mind had clearly deteriorated to a very dangerously low level if he was taking jobs without thinking things through just because he was tired and, most of all, horny. If it had at least been because there was no food left in the fridge or something, now _that_ would have been a validated reason.

_Oh well,_ Shisui thought, sighing mentally. _There's no backing out now, so I might as well get it over with. _

Drowning his first cup of coffee for that day he began rummaging through his stuff, searching for his cell phone, which he was sure he had left in one of the drawers last night. Probably. Maybe. Jesus, he was never cleaning up his office again if this was the result...

"There you are," he muttered when he finally discovered it under a pile of papers, duck tape and what seemed to be the remainders of what had been a sandwich he'd bought a couple of week ago. _Ew_. Shisui wrinkled his nose at it, briefly considered getting some gloves to take it out and then decided no, he was a man, and men liked to rummage around in stuff of questionable hygiene (or at least didn't fear it) and he could totally take it. Still, he opted to merely grab it with his fingertips and hold his nose with the other hand while he carefully walked into the kitchen and dropped it into the garbage. Pouring himself another coffee, he flipped the phone open and skimmed through his contact list until he found the number he had been looking for.

It was time to make some calls.

He began with Mitarashi Anko. As much as this woman crept him out at times, she was the best and most important source of information he had. She was working for Orochimaru, one of the most influential mafia bosses and definitely the creepiest individual that ever existed. Only thinking about him made him shudder. Sometimes Shisui still wondered how she had gotten there. He could still remember her from primary school, a lonely and somewhat hyperactive tomboy practically begging for someone to love her. They had been in the same class and had actually gotten along quite well, but in the end he'd lost sight of her when they went to different schools. Of course, before there had been tear-filled promises to always keep in touch and be friends forever, but that was just how life went, wasn't it?

He'd met her again on his first mission and remembered being utterly flabbergasted and torn between joy and horror and sadness at seeing just how much she had changed. Gone was the little innocent girl, having been replaced with a confident, dangerous woman that always knew how to get what she wanted. She was still loud-mouthed and grinned a lot, but there was a dark side to it, and to Shisui it always seemed as if there were some shadows following her, hanging above her head like the sword of Damocles, darkening everything around her. After he had recovered from the shock, they'd celebrated their reunion with shitty take-out and too much hard liquor and somehow, (Shisui didn't remember how) they'd ended up in bed together.

Their relationship, if it ever was one, hadn't lasted very long, for neither of them was into commitment. There hadn't even been a break-up; they'd merely stopped having sex on a regular basis. Now their relationship was based on shared information and small-talk, loyalty and nostalgic memories, inviting the other round for dinner after he did you a favour and mostly then waking up next to each other the next morning. It wasn't so much about lust and want or, God forbid, love, but rather about fighting the nagging feeling of loneliness that overcame both of them on a regular basis, and exchanging body heat with an admittedly somewhat strange yet nicely-shaped woman was always a good way to forget about it.

All in all, as much as Shisui hated to admit it, Anko was probably the closest thing to a friend that he had. Well, maybe aside from Kakashi, a former colleague from the police, but he'd rather not call that old pervert a friend in public. So yeah, people thought he was bad because he'd been around and was bisexual on top of that, but at least he didn't constantly read porn in public. He did have a bit of decency and manners. Well, you know, if he wanted to, at least.

Anko picked up immediately. "Now look who it is," she said, and Shisui could almost hear the devious grin spreading over her face. "What am I getting this time? Chinese? Sushi? Italian? I think I'd like Italian."

"That really depends on whether you're a nice girl and actually have anything useful for me," Shisui retorted. "I'm not exhausting my wallet anymore if it's no use of me."

Anko pouted. "You are a very mean boy, Shisui. I'm pretty sure you got _something_ out of our last meeting."

"Yeah, but it wasn't exactly worth going without food for the rest of the week just because you picked the most expensive dishes and made me pay for all of it."

"Uh-oh, big mistake, honey. Don't ever tell a woman that, lest you make her angry. You know, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Oh, believe me, the last thing I'd want to do is make you angry," he laughed. "I value my life too much for that." Shisui could hear noises in the background, loud voices shouting frantically at each other; it made him wonder where she was and what she was doing there, but then again he figured he didn't really want to know. Then the noises suddenly died out and he could hear Anko flopping herself on a couch.

"Okay, I'm alone now. So, what do you want to know?"

"What do you know about Uchiha Madara?" he asked.

The silence that followed his question was deafening. Then Anko hissed "_Shit_, Shisui."

"What?" he asked, alarmed.

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into? What you _will_ get yourself into?" Anko all but whispered.

Shisui frowned. Not once since he had reunited with Anko ad he seen her upset or worried about anything. She always wore her badass attitude like a cloak and if this simple question unsettled her, then he could only suppose it was really, _really_ bad. Not that this would have troubles him in the slightest. "Judging from your reaction, I suppose it's not exactly good."

"'Not exactly good'? Shit, Shisui. That's the understatement of the year. Oh, scratch that, it must be the biggest understatement of the friggin _century_," she snapped. "I know you are pretty full of yourself and I also know you are good, but this is at least ten times too big for you."

"Jeez, thanks for the support," Shisui said sarcastically.

"I mean it, Shisui. Stay out of it."

"You are afraid of him."

"Are you freaking kidding me? Of course I'm afraid of him. He scares everyone shitless," she hissed. "And just for the record, everyone includes Orochimaru. Just so that you know just how bad it is."

"I'm not Orochimaru." Shisui shrugged, feigning indifference although in reality he was shifting in his chair uncomfortably. If Orochimaru was scared, then it was way worse than he had expected it to be. Not that he had had any real expectations to begin with. Wonderful. He already regretted accepting the job at the first day.

Anko's reaction was a menacing growl. He sighed. "_Please_, Anko. I need your help with this. I already accepted the job and I'm not going to cancel it now. I can't do that. Please."

Anko inhaled deeply, hesitating. "Fine," she said brusquely. "I won't be able to tell you much, but I'll see what I can do. Pick me up at seven, the usual place. You will take me to the most fucking expensive Italian restaurant in Tokyo, whether you want to or not. If I put my life on the line then it better be worth it."

With that, she hung up. Shisui blinked and stared at the phone in his hand for what seemed like an eternity.

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><p>Shisui thanked the waitress who had set down his bowl of ramen in front of him politely and was just about to dig in when someone tapped him on the shoulder and slid onto the stool next to him. Turning his head, he was confronted with a familiar bunch of silver hair and an even more familiar orange book.<p>

"Kakashi."

"Shisui." Hatake Kakashi's reply sounded somewhat bored, but then again, he always sounded kind of bored anyway, or at least as if he was always deeply and soundly relaxed. Maybe this was why, unlike Shisui, he still endured the perils and ignominy of the police force. He just didn't seem to give a flying fuck.

"Would you _mind_ putting that book away?" Shisui muttered in disgust.

"Why? You getting any ideas?" Kakashi wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Shisui shot him a dirty look. "We are in a _restaurant,_" he growled.

"Your point?" Kakashi shrugged. "Besides, I'm not sure whether a ramen stand actually qualifies as a restaurant. Also, no one else seems to be bothered by it, and it's not my fault you can't keep your eyes off the cover. Haven't gotten laid in a while, I suppose?"

"I hate you," Shisui muttered and turned towards his meal again, trying to ignore Kakashi's leer and the highly suggestive book cover, which he didn't observe _at all_. In fact, in the years he had known Kakashi he had learned that it was always beneficial to ignore the man altogether when it came to his favourite kink. But as much as he hated to admit it, Shisui usually enjoyed it when his former colleague made dirty comments; not only was it proof that he wasn't the only one who was constantly thinking of sex, but also a lot of fun to fool around with him.

Hatake Kakashi was one of the best, if not _the_ best, policeman Shisui had ever met. Despite his usual laziness, he was highly intelligent and always very focused on his work, discovering details and links everyone else would have missed. He always demanded teamwork and cared deeply for his colleagues and usually managed to miraculously keep most of them alive, which was, considering that his main remit lay in the Tokyo underground, a wonder. Not to mention he was on first name basis with _everyone_, both the good and the bad guys. Shisui knew he could consider himself lucky to count Hatake Kakashi among his friends.

"So, if you're already pestering me while I am trying to peacefully eat my lunch, you can at least tell me something interesting," Shisui said.

"Unfortunately I brought nobody home last night," Kakashi sighed theatrically.

Shisui rolled his eyes and chose not to dignify this comment with a response. "Uchiha Madara?"

Kakashi's reaction was nothing like Anko's. In fact, he didn't look surprised at all, nor did he seem to be shocked in the slightest. "Ah, so I reckon Itachi has already paid you a visit."

"Yeah he- wait, how do you know that?" Shisui exclaimed.

Kakashi gave him a pointed look.

"You sent him to me?" Shisui almost screeched. Kakashi nodded shortly. "I hate you," Shisui repeated helplessly.

"I thought you could use the money."

"Yeah, great, now I can at least cover the expenses for my own funeral, if what Anko says is true."

"You've already talked to Anko? What did she tell you?" Kakashi asked.

Shisui shook his head. "Not really, but I'm meeting her tonight. Since you're asking, I suppose you can't tell me all that much about him, eh?"

"Not really, no." Kakashi frowned. "I have suspected he takes part in a lot of big deals here in Tokyo for a long time now, but we've never found any proof of it. That is why, when Itachi came to me asking for assistance, I sent him to you. I figured you might know more than I do, and if not, you can operate more freely than I can when seeking information."

Shisui raised his eyebrows, a silent question.

"Shisui, you know you shouldn't poke your nose too deeply into matters that are nothing to you. If I started to ask too many questions about Uchiha Madara, I'm quite sure I'd be kicked out faster than I can say 'fiddlestick'."

"You mean he schmears the police higher-ups?"

"As sure as every other higher-up in this whole damned city," he confirmed.

Shisui groaned. "Wonderful. I hope Itachi knows what he got himself – and me – into." He cocked his head to the side as he watched Kakashi take a sip of his tea. "Why did he come to you, anyway?"

"Old family friend," Kakashi shrugged.

"You? With someone of the Uchiha?" Shisui asked incredulously. It was hard to picture Kakashi surrounded by a bunch of suit-wearers, having and educated conversation about how lovely the weather was or some shit like that.

Kakashi smiled nostalgically. "Oh well. That was some time ago. Uchiha Obito used to be my best friend; we went to the police academy together. I have to admit, I was surprised that Itachi still remembered me. It's been years since I've last seen him, and although Obito was his cousin I don't think they were close."

"What happened to him?"

"KIA."

_Killed in action. _Shisui should've guessed that much. "Sorry," he said; it was the only thing he could come up with. People were constantly killed in action, especially when they were working in Kakashi's department. It wasn't a rarity, and everyone learned to deal with it. Somehow. More or less. Usually rather less than more.

Kakashi shrugged, his expression dark. "Happens to the best of us."

"No," Shisui said, "in the end, it happens to all of us."

* * *

><p>Shisui couldn't help but shudder lightly as he made his way to Anko's apartment. He hated this place and seriously, he couldn't understand why Anko didn't move to another quarter. This one was definitely the darkest, dirtiest and most dangerous areas of the entire city and really the only advantage of living here was that the rent was way below the usual horrendous prices. He could've understood if Anko hadn't been able to afford a better flat, but he suspected that she earned more money than he did, being the second-favourite subordinate of one of the most influential drug dealers in Tokyo and all that. Shisui had asked her once why she refused to move, but Anko had just laughed it off and said that there were a lot of memories that connected her to this place. He hadn't believed her. If there were memories of her past that made her stay here, then he doubted they were nice ones that would make her feel nostalgic.<p>

Shisui gracefully sidestepped a pool of a dirty mush on the ground (he didn't really want to think about what exactly it was that covered the pavement, for it was bound to be something nasty and disgusting) and made his way up the stairs to Anko's house. The name plate was tattered and made it unable to decipher who was living in which apartment, but Shisui had been here often enough to know exactly which bell he had to press. Sometimes he thought that maybe this was the reason why Anko chose to stay here in this godforsaken neighbourhood – the darkness and disconsolation provided a certain amount of anonymity, and thus, safety and shelter for those who did not want to be found.

He didn't have to wait long before the door opened to reveal a startlingly glamorous looking Anko. Unlike him, who was still only wearing a pair of dark jeans and a shirt and hadn't even bothered with a tie, she was actually dressed for the occasion. Her smile was absent, though. Only when he complimented her did it reappear, shortly, flashing over her face.

"You look breathtaking," he told her truthfully, and the ghost of a smug grin appeared on her face, but not reaching her eyes. She was nervous, Shisui determined, when he saw the way her hand clutched her purse and it threw him more off guard than he would have thought was possible. Anko was never nervous, not even when standing in the middle of a gunfight. Usually, at least.

"I wish I could return the compliment, but in all honesty, you look like shit," Anko commented outspoken. "You could have at least made an effort to look nice. What happened to the tux you used to own?"

"What tu – oh, that one. Well, I suppose _used to own_ is the key phrase here."

"What happened to it?" Anko repeated.

"There's a hole in it," Shisui lied shamelessly and shrugged. That wasn't what had happened to the tuxedo at all, but he didn't feel like talking about it right now. It would ruin the mood for the entire evening and stir up unwanted feelings and memories that he couldn't use right now, not when he had a dangerous job to think about.

Anko sighed. "You're such a klutz, Shisui, really."

He shrugged again. "It doesn't matter. I made a reservation, so they are going to let me in. And no one is going to spare me glance anyway, with you making all the waiters drool over you and having the waitresses gape in awe and jealousy."

"Shut up," she laughed, and hit him on the shoulder and for a split second Shisui could see the young girl again who used to tease him about his ill-made bento boxes and proceeded to share her own with him, the girl who got into fights and rolled around in the mud not caring whether her clothes got dirty, the girl who was young and innocent and laughing and beautiful. "You're really pathetic when it comes to sucking up so someone, do you know that?"

"Yeah. You told me before. A million times, I think." Shisui pouted.

Anko laughed again and linked her arm with his, dragging him along. A bit of the tension had dissipated and floated away, and their friendly bickering and laughter echoes through the silent alleyways as they made their way to the restaurant.

He let her enter first, which turned out to be a very cunning idea, because the doorman was so busy eating Anko with his looks that he didn't notice Shisui's inferior and somewhat shabby clothing at all and let him step inside without a single comment. He got a few disapproving looks from the waiter later, but since he was already inside Shisui didn't care all that much.

Of course Anko, being the little bitch she was, chose the most expensive food and wine, and Shisui died a little inside and concentrated on not letting his already forced smile turn into a pained grimace. Judging from the evil looks Anko shot him, he was doing a miserable job, but he figured that as long as he didn't contradict or interrupt her with her orders she wouldn't kill him, because after all she still needed him to pay.

The waiter nodded satisfied when she had finished and turned towards Shisui. "And for you, Sir?"

"Uhm...I'll just have some water, thank you."

The waiter's eyebrows rose, but he didn't say anything and just walked off to the next table. Anko, on the other hand, looked at him, frowning. "Are you not going to eat anything?"

"I'm not hungry. I had some ramen before." Naturally, his stomach betrayed him at this point by grumbling loudly. One bowl of ramen just didn't fulfil his body's needs for the day. Shisui made a mental note to grab some more edibles after his 'date' with Anko, preferably some cheap, greasy and rich in calories instant stuff that he only needed to heat up in his microwave, which was, apart from the coffee machine, the only kitchen utensil he knew how to use.

Knowing that she was terribly moody when someone disturbed her with business questions while eating, he waited until she had nearly finished her meal before addressing the issue he was spending all this money for. "So..."he drawled, settling back on his chair and making himself comfortable, "I believe you owe me some answers."

Anko swallowed. "You didn't really ask questions."

"Well, I remember asking one question very clearly, and that was: 'What do you know about Uchiha Madara?' And I swear, if you don't have valuable information for me, I'm going to leave you to pay the bill," he threatened.

She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"How about everything?"

"Okay." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Uchiha Madara. The biggest fish out there, bigger than all the others put together."

"He's in the drug dealing department, then?" Shisui interrupted.

Anko rolled her eyes. "He's got a hand in everything. And if I say everything, I mean _everything_. Drugs, procuring, smuggling, assassinations...there's not a single crime he – or rather his minions, it's not like he would get his hands dirty himself – hasn't committed. You should be able to find his tracks in every single friggin case that ever landed on your desk when you were still working for the police, just that you never will, because he's a master at covering them up. As far as I know, he has got several aliases that allow him to operate in the underground unnoticed. Since only a handful of people have ever met him personally, there is very little known about him aside from his public life as an Uchiha. It's a wonder it was leaked that he actually has his hands in this anyway. The poor bastard who spilled the beans didn't have a lot of time to realize and regret his mistake."

Anko shuddered visibly. "I've seen his corpse. Of course, the damage is done, but believe me, we've all learned our lesson. There is not a single person out there who would ever betray him for the fear of his own life, especially not his own men – they are loyal to a fault, and ruthless on top of that. No one would have the slightest qualms about doing someone in in the nastiest way. _He_ is not afraid to off his closest confidants, either. Rumours has it that he was the one killing Senju Hashirama."

Shisui frowned. "Wasn't he supposed to be his best friend?"

"Exactly," Anko ground out. "You get my point. Stay out of this, Shisui. If anyone gets wind of you poking your pretty nose into this you'll be worse than dead."

"There are worse things than being dead?"

"Oh, shut up," Anko snapped. "Your jokes suck. Just stop it. It's not like you're only putting yourself in danger – you're always dragging everyone into it you know and who's close to you, voluntarily or not. Me, your mother, your friends. His men are like pitbulls when it comes to hunting someone down, and once you're in their grasp there is no getting out alive."

Shisui hated Itachi – and Kakashi, too – more by the second. "Lovely." He rubbed his temples. "What is he up to at the moment, then? You know anything about this?"

"Not really. But -" Anko bit her lip nervously. "It must be something big. This man is obsessed with his desire for power, and well, since he's already got the entire underground at his mercy..."

"You think he wants to expand his power even more? Like, overthrow the government or something?"

"This isn't funny, Shisui," Anko snapped again.

He looked at her startled. "So you _really _think he-"

"I wouldn't put it past him," she cut him short. "Hell, I wouldn't put it past him to come up with a plan to rule the entire freaking world. And I wouldn't put it past him to succeed. This man is crazy, but he is a genius."

Shisui exhaled loudly. "Jesus fucking Christ." He stared into space for a while, trying to assess what he just heard and absentmindedly began picking at the tablecloth until Anko slapped him on the hand, successfully jerking him out of his thoughts. "Do you have any details? I need something more to work with. Rumours and assumptions aren't going to help."

Anko was startled. "You still want to do this? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Of course I will. It's not like I have a choice, anyway. I need the money."

"I don't have anything else for you. There's hardly any information out there – only a couple of his best men know more; the ones who also pull most of the jobs for him."

"Can you get me in contact with them?"

Anko looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You are out of your fucking mind," she stated. "No. No way in hell. I'm not letting myself get dragged into this further. I'm rather fond of my life, thank you very much."

Shisui nodded. He didn't want to put Anko in any more danger either. He might have already endangered her enough as it was, he thought, by making her tell him all this. "I understand. But do you know where I can find them, at least?"

Anko hesitated, clearly debating whether to tell him or not. Then she sighed in defeat. "I know the names of two of his 'right-hands'. Try to contact Pain or Tobi. They might be able to...get you a place in his ranks. But if you tell them a single word about me, I will skin you alive, did I make myself clear?"

Shisui nodded again and leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek. "Thank you, Anko."

The soft kiss did nothing to dissolve the tension, the stiffness of her body. For a split second, he thought she would relax into his touch, like she usually would, but then she pulled back abruptly. "Don't thank me for this," she said brusquely as she stood, "in a couple of days, we will both regret you ever asked."

* * *

><p><strong>AN.:**_ Reviews...? _


	3. Important Note

This is not an update, but an important note (yes, don't kill me for it, I know you are all annoyed when getting email notification that turn out not to be a new chapter, but this one is actually really important)

FFnet has given me some seriously annoying technical troubles in the past months (occasionally not letting me log in, not letting me update stories or not letting people access newly uploaded chapters, not letting me reply to reviews, all that along the new rule that you can't put link on your profile page anymore), which is one of the many reasons **I have decided to move to AO3** (Archive Of Our Own).

For those who don't know, this is a rather small, fan-run website for fanworks that has some seriously awesome features for writers and a really nice tag system, and it's generally very shiny and glorious and I already love my new account to pieces.

I have already transferred approximately 80 percent of my fics to this site (whether the rest will follow, I don't know yet; I might just leave the stories I'm not that proud of), and while I might not remove the stories from FFnet and delete my account here (at least not yet - I might consider doing this at a later point, but I will leave them up for now, just in case FFnet decides to become awesome once again and I want to move back here, although I doubt it), **from now on I will only post my stories to (and update WIP fics on) AO****3. **

**So, if you want to follow my stories, and my writing in general, you'd better bookmark it or something. I do hope to see you all there:**

archiveofourown (dot) org (slash) users (slash) Rena


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